The Purrfect Day
by ASouthernRussian
Summary: Blake is having a rough day right up until some idiot runner crashes into her on the street. Modern!AU Pussy Magnet done in honor of /r/RWBY's Pussy Magnet Friday! [Cover art courtesy of noxypep]
1. Chapter 1

**This one-shot is dedicated to PartFootball, /r/RWBY moderator and Pussy Magnet enthusiast extraordinaire. There's one more chapter soon to come, so stay tuned!**

Blake Belladonna was not having a good day.

Blake was briskly walking back home, coffee and papers in hand, with a very unwelcoming scowl on her face. She had just gotten out of a long, frustrating meeting with her editor that morning. The faunus had been working on a novel for the past few months, an epic tale of romance, intrigue, and action about two lovers from warring families that sought to find their own peace among all the hatred. Blake stayed up many a late night, tormenting herself over each chapter. However, her editor did not take the story seriously, citing all the… "adult" scenes within, and told Blake that she ought to tone down the scope of the romance. _The nerve of that guy! I bet he just hasn't gotten any lately,_ she told herself in an attempt to ameliorate herself. But that was not the only misfortune that day, no, no, no – on her way to that dreadful meeting, the bus she usually took was running late, so she almost did not make it. She had made a point to look her best just so the editor might look at her more favorably, but in the rush for time, she ended up looking quite disheveled. And to top it all off, the coffee Blake just got to calm her nerves was the wrong kind – she only ever drinks hazelnut lattes, but when she took a sip of it, it turned out to be vanilla. Blake groaned. _Great, is nothing going to go my way today?_

If there was some sort of higher power governing the world, it certainly had quite the cheeky sense of humor, for right as she rounded the corner, something crashed into. Blake was knocked over, but she managed to land somewhat neatly, thanks to her cat-like reflexes. Everything she was carrying, on the other hand, did not – her notes were scattered around her, and the coffee spilled all over her white blouse. This was it. This was the last straw for Blake. She had no idea who or what was responsible for this, but boy, was she ready to tear someone a new one.

"What the hell? Watch where you're going, you fu-" Blake started, but when she looked up at the perpetrator, she had no more words. The woman before her was quite simply the most beautiful angel she had ever set eyes upon. She had long, silky red hair that was tied up into a sporty ponytail and emerald eyes that almost seemed to pierce through the downed faunus. She wore a sporty getup – red shorts, white tank, and a bronze headband – so Blake figured that she must have been some sort of runner. _She certainly has the figure for it,_ Blake silently noted as she quickly scanned the athlete's body. However, she quickly snapped herself out of her dream-like daze to properly take in what was going on.

Despite the fact that she was not the one knocked onto the ground, this woman was clearly in more distress than Blake was. "I. Am. So. Sorry! Here, let me help you up," she exclaimed, extending her hand out to her. The writer accepted it and was pulled up from the ground with a surprising amount of force. "I'm so sorry about this! I get really into my afternoon runs sometimes, so forgive me for m- oh my gosh, I knocked all your stuff out of your hands! I'll pick this all up for you, don't worry! It's my fault, anyway." Not a second later, she did just as she said and quickly went to grab all the papers strewn about.

It was almost amusing to Blake to see this flustered young woman being this worked up over what happened. Sure, she was mad for a moment, but her anger quickly subsided when she laid eyes on this angel of a person. "Thanks, but don't beat yourself over it – I wasn't paying attention to where I was going myself," the faunus said, attempting to calm down this sweet girl, who had just finished collecting all the loose sheets and stacked them all up neatly.

"No, no, no, you're the one you got pushed over, so I shou- oh dear, I got coffee all over your shirt!" The redhead held a hand over her mouth in shock of what she had done. "I'm so sorry about that!"

"Oh, it's fine," Blake said with a disarming laugh. "It's an old one that I never really liked, anyway." This was a lie – she had just bought it a week ago in preparation for her meeting with the editor, but considering how upset this woman seemed to be, Blake decided that this was a minor detail. However, the runner continued to sulk.

"Still, I made you look like a mess…" All of a sudden, her face brightened up with a smile. "Oh! Tell you what: how about you come over to my place and I can wash your shirt for you! You'll have to borrow something of mine in the meantime, but you look about my size, so you should be able to find something suitable. Oh, and I can make you some coffee to make up for the one I made you spill!"

Blake's eyes widened in surprise. _Well, that was unexpected_. Granted, this woman seemed like the kind of person to genuinely care about other people and try to make up for any slights done against them, but what she just proposed was almost too much. Still, the faunus did not have anything planned for the next few hours, thanks to the editor turning away her story, and it _would_ be nice to not walk around with a giant coffee stain on her clothes. Plus, it helped that the redhead was absolutely gorgeous, and who knows, maybe she can get to know her a little better. Blake felt her face warm up just a bit at the thought but quickly repressed the reaction.

"Sure, I'll take you up on that offer."

"Excellent! I don't live too far from here, so it won't take long!" The runner's face practically glowed with her smile, and she started to head back from where she came. Blake followed alongside of her, not saying much for a bit. She was a quiet one by nature, preferring to observe life from a distance, but in this current circumstance, that would simply not do.

The faunus decided to strike up a conversation. "By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, where are my manners! I'm Pyrrha. What about you?"

"Pyrrha, Pyrrha…" the writer said wistfully, tilting back her head in thought. "Where have heard that name before?" This world is full of uncommon names, but Blake was almost certain that this was not the first time she had encountered that name.

The redhead sighed. "That's probably because I'm Pyrrha Nikos, the 'Champion of Mistral University,'" she said with little enthusiasm. "Name any track and field event, and I've probably won a medal for the school in it."

"Ah, I must've read your name in a newspaper or something," Blake said plainly. "I've never found an interest in sports, so you'll have to forgive me for not immediately wanting your autograph." Pyrrha laughed warmly at this comment – _well, I must be doing something right._ "I'm Blake, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Blake," she responded cheerfully. "And I wasn't planning on giving out autographs or anything – if I had to be perfectly honest, I hated that. I never liked being known by everyone in my university and hometown, because all they ever knew me as was the 'Champion.'"

"I see. What do you do here, then?"

"Well, as much as I hate to say it, I've gotten so good at being an athlete that it's hard for me to do anything else. Still, I managed to land a position as a physical therapist at a clinic downtown, so that's kind of a nice change." Pyrrha then turned to the faunus. "That's enough about me, though – I still don't know anything about you, and I was the one who knocked you over earlier! I should really stop rambling."

Blake snickered lightly. "You're fine, I just don't really talk much to begin with, so don't worry about that. I'm kind of… in between things right now, but I'm a writer."

The redhead's green eyes sparkled. "Ooo, that's so interesting! What kind of writing do you do?"

"Well…" As much as she refused to admit it, the majority of what Blake wrote was what many would classify as "smut." She hated that term, though, as it had a connotation of poor quality and pandering to the lowest common denominator. Sure, she's written a number of sex scenes before, but Blake firmly believes that they were all in good taste and far better written than many of the "bestsellers" on the market today. Of course, she could not quite tell Pyrrha all of this, so she found a better answer. "I write romance novels, mostly, though I like to add in combat sequences as well."

"Is that what you have in those papers?"

"Y-yes, but's it's still incomplete," the writer blurted out nervously. "You'll have to wait a while longer before it's published." _If I can even get it published_, she mentally added.

"Ah, right, of course. Can't rush art, right?" Pyrrha offered. "Oh, look, we're already here! Come, this won't take long."

As she watched the redhead runner enter the building, Blake wondered what else this day had in store for her. She did not like how it started, but she sure liked where it was going.

* * *

**EDIT: missed some tense errors. Should be all gone!**


	2. Chapter 2

Blake's jaw dropped when she saw the interior of Pyrrha's apartment. While she herself did not live in poverty, a writer's salary was nothing compared to the kind of money that would afford a place like this. It was quite clear that her time as the "Champion of Mistral University" had brought the athlete good fortune, what with all the sponsorships and scholarships she must have received. The layout itself was very modern and minimalist, yet it still looked rather comfortable. The living room was spacious, especially considering that Pyrrha seemed to be living alone – perhaps she had a lot of friends to invite over? _Of course she would,_ Blake mused,_ a girl this pretty and well-known shouldn't lack for company._ The writer also noticed an almost over-abundance of rugs, blankets, and pillows that were scattered everywhere; it would be a perfect place for napping, a new spot for her to curl up in every time.

However, all Blake managed to say was, "Wow…"

Pyrrha noticed the awe with which her companion was surveying the apartment and immediately attempted to deflate any sense of grandeur. "It's nothing special, really. When I told my coach that I was planning on moving to Vale, she immediately started pulling some strings to find a place for me to stay at a discount price. I insisted that I was perfectly capable of finding an apartment on my own – I even considered living with a roommate from around here – but… well, when a person has been taking care of you for so many years, they don't really take no for an answer." The redhead probably did not notice it herself, but Blake could have sworn that she saw her expression darken ever so slightly.

"Sounds like you've gotten tired of people looking out for you," Blake said conclusively.

"Yeah…" Pyrrha almost sounded guilty. "I mean, they're good people, and I really appreciate everything they've done for me, but it's just like you said. I wanted to make a new path for myself, one that didn't revolve around my fame."

The faunus smiled softly. "That's very admirable of you. Most people cling to their fame as if it was the heart of who they were, while you just let go of it."

"Thanks, Blake," the athlete replied, returning the smile. However, the smile quickly faded as she smacked herself on the forehead. "Oh, great, now we're talking about me again! Argh, I need to stop doing that… here, let me so you my room so you can go change into something other than that coffee-stained shirt."

Blake followed the redheaded woman into her room, which, to her great surprise, looked nothing like the rest of the apartment. Apparently, all of Pyrrha's messiness was piled into one small bedroom, with clothes scattered everywhere, a little desk by the window that had an unkempt stack of folders resting on it, and a few books laid upside down on her nightstand. Her closest was no different – although it seemed as though Pyrrha had less outfits than most women her age, she somehow managed to find a way to clutter up everything. Despite this, every outfit there was quite tasteful, which is saying something for the faunus. Blake is very particular when it comes to what she wears, usually opting for neutral colors and simple yet elegant designs – the athlete had this in spades.

"I'm sorry about all this mess, by the way – if I'd known that I was going to bring someone over, I would have taken the time to clean up," the redhead said while nervously rubbing the back of her neck.

The writer chuckled at Pyrrha's concern. "Trust me, I've seen messier people." _Namely myself,_ she mentally added. Blake then pointed to the closet and asked, "So, should I change in there, or…"

"Oh, right! You need to change, and I'm interrupting you! Okay, you can have the room to yourself for a bit. Anything that you see and want to wear is yours, but just don't get anything from off the floor – that's all dirty. Oh, and just toss out your shirt into the hall and I'll throw it into the washing machine while I make you some coffee and lunch."

"You really don't have to do all that, I already know you're sorry about running into me. It's not that big of a deal, honest." _Being here with you, on the other hand, is a pretty damn big deal_.

Pyrrha shook her head and wagged her finger. "No, that won't do. You're my guest, and I have to treat you well, and that means I need to get you something to eat while we wait." She turned to leave the bedroom, but not without saying, "If you need help with something, just give me a holler!"

Blake smiled warmly, responding, "Will do." When the door shut behind Pyrrha, however, instead of finding something to change into, the writer made a beeline for the nightstand to take a look at what kind of books this woman was reading. The faunus has found in the past that she can learn quite a lot about a person's character from what they read – reading is often a very private experience that is made to bring the reader into a world of their choosing, freeing them of the social limitations of this world. Naturally, Blake was curious about what kind of things this hospitable and beautiful woman was interested in; all she knew was that she was a famous athlete who was attempting to escape her old image. _That ought to make for some interesting internal conflicts, _Blake mused.

She picked up the first book and turned it over to the cover. "Tough Meat: A Complete Guide to the Most Common Muscular Ailments," she read aloud. _No surprise here, she _is_ a physical therapist after all, _Blake thought, slightly disappointed that she could not deduce anything more from this. _I suppose this means that she takes her line of work very seriously, but that's no surprise, considering what lengths she went to in order to take care of me._ Mouth creasing slightly at the last thought, the writer picked up the next book in the pile, an older hardcover this time. "On Wings of Victory," she read, looking at the picture of a man with grand, white wings ascending into the heavens. Seemed like something an athlete like Pyrrha might read, but Blake knew not to judge a book by its cover. She turned to the back of the book to read the description and found herself a little disappointed when her initial assessment turned out to be correct. _Another story of the self-made sportsman – dust, these get boring real quick,_ Blake lamented as she closed the book with an audible "thud!" _Is this all there is to her? If that's the case, I don't think I'm going to have a chance wi-_

Her train of thought came to a halt when she noticed the last book, however. It was a small, black paperback with ornate red lettering that Blake knew all too well – a simple romance novella called "Ninjas of Love." To most people, this was just a smutty fanfiction created for a popular TV series, but to Blake, it was so much more. If the reader was mature enough to not freak out over the several sexual encounters that took place in the story, they would see a beautifully crafted tale of impossible love that explored both the better and worse parts of human nature. In fact, it was because of this novel that Blake started to get into writing, as she wanted to tell stories as deep and moving to others as it had been for her. The faunus's disappointment faded away to reveal a wide grin. _Well, isn't this quite the surprise – maybe I was too quick to judge her._ Satisfied with her discovery, she headed over to the closet to pick out a new top to change into.

Once she found something to her liking – a cute little cream-colored sweater with argyle stitching – Blake stepped out the bedroom and went to put her blouse in the washing machine. As she did so, she noticed something was off – no sign of Pyrrha. From what little she knew of the redhead, the writer gathered that she was the kind of person to be very attentive when looking after others, so she fully expected to be bombarded with questions about whether she had found everything alright and such. However, the place was silent except for the washing machine whirring in the background. _Did she step out to get the mail or something?_ She wandered quietly through the apartment, trying to find where her hostess was. Eventually, she found her in the living room, intently pouring some papers that were scattered on the coffee table. It then dawned on Blake that she had left her story and notes out on the table before she went to change. _Well now, this is certainly getting interesting._

"You like what you see?" Blake teased. Pyrrha gasped and sprang up from the chair, attempting to quickly throw all the papers together to hide the fact that she had been reading through them. She did not succeed in fooling anyone.

"H-hey there, didn't hear you walk up!" The athlete, whose face was rapidly turning the same color as her hair, took a moment to catch her breath and regain composure. "I see you found something to wear for now; it looks good on you."

"Thanks," the writer replied with a soft smile. "It helps that you have good taste in clothing."

Pyrrha giggled lightly upon hearing that. "Ah, they're nothing special, really. I rarely have the time to go shopping, anyway. Oh, here, I made you some coffee!" She passed a steaming mug that had been sitting at the end of the table to Blake, who accepted it with a nod. "I forgot to ask how you like it, so I just added a spoon of sugar and hazelnut creamer."

Blake raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "If this was made from espresso and not drip coffee, you'd have made my usual brew." She took a sip to try it out. It was not the greatest brew, but it was free, and the faunus found that free tastes very good. "You still haven't answered my question, by the way."

"What do you mean?" Blake merely gestured toward her scattered papers on the table and Pyrrha's fit of nervousness from earlier resumed. "O-oh, that! Sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy! It's just… you said you were a writer, so I was curious about what exactly you wrote, and you left your stuff on the table, so I figured there'd be no harm in taking a peek. I didn't get very far, don't worry!"

"I don't mind, really," the writer responded with a chuckle. Normally, she would be absolutely livid if someone else had read through her work, but after seeing _Ninjas of Love_ in this woman's room, she was inclined to be more open. It also helped that Blake was also seeking for a way for them to connect. "What did you think?"

After a moment of silence, Pyrrha said with a small voice, "I'd love to continue to read more.

It was now Blake's turn to blush. _Okay, wow, she actually likes it. And likes it a lot, considering how she's trying to hide it. Does this mean I have a chance?_ "That's… that's the nicest thing I've heard anyone say about my writing," she said meekly. Another pause. "Well, I still need to make some finishing touches before I can send this in, but… you're welcome to read it when I'm done. It'll be good to have a second opinion."

The redhead looked up at her with wide, eager eyes. "I would love that." Blake's heart nearly skipped a beat when she heard that.

_Oh, Dust, this is the best day of my life._

* * *

**You know, this story was originally going to stop here, but I'm honestly thinking about continuing it. It's going to be mostly fluff and such and it'll likely be updated somewhat irregularly, but I had a lot of fun writing this! I don't have a grand scheme for this one, so if/when I continue with more chapters, they'll be more episodic than serial. **

**I hope you have enjoyed these dorks as much as I have writing them, and I hope to see y'all in the future!**


	3. Chapter 3

It was another one of those days for Blake.

No matter how much she stared at the wall of words on her computer screen, it still continued to evade her comprehension. Blake couldn't glare the words into submission and coerce them into telling her what needed to be changed, though she certainly was trying.

She took another sip of tea. It had grown cold by that point, but Blake didn't care; she was just drinking it for the caffeine, anyway. Normally, the stuff helps her focus, but tonight it just wasn't doing the trick. Blake's thoughts were still floating aimlessly around in her head, refusing to be molded into words that she can write.

Blake glanced over to her headphones lying next to her laptop. Earlier, she had been blasting indie music through them – quiet strums of an acoustic guitar could still be heard – in yet another attempt to get some creative energy going, but they, too, had failed.

Blake leaned back in her chair and groaned. _Caffeine, music, comfortable clothes – why is nothing working for me?_ It hurt her head to think, but she had to push past that. After all, she had promised to herself to finish editing this current chapter by the beginning of the next week, and it was already Saturday evening. She had all the motivation in the world to want to be over and done with, but the past few days had been fruitless. Whether she was in her favorite café, the university library, or in the comfort of her own home – her usual nexus of focus – Blake couldn't muster up any energy to edit her current chapter.

When she first decided to become a writer, Blake was fully aware that it wasn't going to be just as easy as vomiting words onto a page and having people like them. No one wants the read the crap that comes out at first – so jumbled, inconsistent, and full of mistakes. However, Blake couldn't help but wonder if leaving in all those mistakes would outweigh the toil that was the editing process. Hours and hours she spend scanning over both her editor's notes and her own work, trying to incorporate the many suggestions and still somehow maintain the narrative she wanted, but nothing was clicking in her mind for some reason. _Damn it all! How have I not gotten past this page in the last 3 hours?!_

Trapped in her own thoughts, Blake barely noticed the buzzing of her scroll.

_Hmm?_ Blake's ears flicked in the direction of the sound before she turned her head. Who could be messaging her now? Blake's laptop indicated that it was 4:27 in the afternoon. Not too late in the day. Hell, it was a Saturday – Blake had woken up only four hours prior, so the day was still young for her. _Perhaps it was Yang?_ Being the weekend, Blake had no doubt she had crazy plan for the evening – most likely involving alcohol, gossip, and mischief – but Blake wasn't feeling it today. She normally enjoys the blonde's company, but working on her chapter had drained much of her energy.

It could also be Ren or… _and_ Nora. The thoughtful conversations that she often has with Ren was Blake's idea of a good time, but any time he was around, so was Nora. Nora was like Yang in a lot of ways, except while the latter was fueled by adventure and good intentions, the former seemed to be powered by literal jet fuel. Blake was in no mood to deal with the high octane, and even thinking about Nora exhausted her.

There was also, Sun, her monkey faunus friend and constant goofball. The guy couldn't sit still for five seconds before making some sort of wisecrack, which Yang only encouraged. Not to mention that he was always driving everyone to try new things, no matter now stupid the idea is – _why do I hang out with so many people with such bountiful energy?!_

A second set of buzzes broke Blake's train of thought. _Right, I could just pick up the scroll and not go through and analyze my friends,_ she thought snidely as she flipped the scroll over to the side with the display. The name on the other side was not one that she was expecting, though.

**Pyrrha Nikos: Hey, got out of work a little early. Are you busy right now?**

Blake was thoroughly surprised. She hadn't seen Pyrrha at all ever since their first encounter, and in the toil of her work, almost forgot about her. Now that she stopped to think, however, Blake remembered that strange and wonderful encounter. This lovely, athletic girl comes literally crashing into her life and it turns out that she's friendly, caring, and – most importantly – interested in her writing. And now she was inviting her over again! It was almost like the plot to a teen love drama Blake used to read…

…_crap_. Blake's delight was soon drowned out a gnawing anxiety. Pyrrha seemed to enjoy her company the first time, but perhaps she was just being nice because she ran into her and her desire for apology made her ignore how inconvenient the whole thing was. Blake remembered being cool and confident last time, but what if that was a fluke? She sure didn't feel all that collected at the current time – she was already stressed out from her writer's block, and spending more time with a gorgeous girl certainly wasn't going to help that.

_Wait a minute… I _am_ technically busy right now, so I can just tell her that I can't come over right now!_ Blake felt proud for finding herself an out from the potentially awkward situation at hand… but then she smacked her head in frustration. She knew that she was lying to herself. She wanted to see Pyrrha again badly, but as is often the case with Blake, her worries about how people see her were crippling. Yang always teased her about it, and even though Blake found her comments annoying, she couldn't deny their truth.

Blake sighed in resignation. _Gods, I'm a lost cause._ In all honesty, she could use a break from her work, and if she wasn't so nervous, Blake would pounce on the opportunity. She shook the annoying thoughts from her mind. _Blake, seriously, it's just a text. It's not going to kill you to reply back. Besides, she wouldn't have texted you out of the blue if she didn't like you in some way._ Encouraged by this new thought, Blake unlocked the scroll and sent a reply.

**You: Not terribly so. What's on your mind?**

Blake tilted her head as she inspected her own message. _What _is _on her mind?_ Now that she thought about it, Blake had no idea why Pyrrha would talk to her. After all, they only met once before, and – not to be self-deprecating or anything – Blake was certain that the athlete would have plenty of other friends to spend time with. Sure, it was flattering that Pyrrha would ask her for something, but Blake was unsure.

**Pyrrha Nikos: I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place later.**

Huh. Well, there it was. An invitation to spend time with Pyrrha. Alright. _Blake. Blake, stop breathing so quickly,_ she commanded herself as her heart started beating faster. _This isn't a big deal. All you're going to be doing is hanging out with a very beautiful girl. Yeah. Nothing to worry about at all._

Blake was, of course, overthinking the situation, but that was par for the course. She didn't usually handle being around new people all that well. She would much prefer observing someone from a distance and figuring them out before interacting with them, but this wasn't possible in the current situation. Blake and Pyrrha met by a literal collision, so there was no room for distant observation in their dynamic. Perhaps that one time was enough for Pyrrha to judge her character? Blake shook her head. _No, all she knows about me is that I write romance novels – how is that enough for her to think of me as someone to hang out with?_

The writer smacked herself in the forehead again. "Are I really trying to come up with an excuse to not go over to Pyrrha's?" she asked herself with a scolding tone. Groaning at her own irrationality, Blake typed back her reply.

**You: I can be there in about an hour.**

There, that was sufficient time for Blake to get a hold of herself before going over. She didn't have much to do in that hour, but Blake didn't want to seem too eager to come over – _no one likes that kind of person_. Normally she would have to find a good stopping point in her work before continuing on to anything else, but that was definitely not a concern at the moment.

**Pyrrha Nikos: Great! I'll see you then.**

Blake laughed at the enthusiasm she could almost hear from that message. _Well, that's a good sign,_ she supposed. Blake could feel a part of her mind huff an "I told you so" and rolled her eyes.

**Pyrrha Nikos: Oh, and bring back the sweater! I hope it worked well enough for you.**

Ah… that. Blake glanced over to the grey sweater, draped inelegantly over her bedpost. She had fallen asleep in it by accident on the night she got it from Pyrrha. It wasn't dirty, per se, but it did look used, and Blake was almost certain she had stretched it out a bit – she had gotten cold that evening and tucked her legs under the warm wool. That would not do.

**You: Make that two hours.**

* * *

Blake was feeling a lot of things as the door to Pyrrha's apartment opened up. Anticipation. Anxiety. Curiosity. Confusion. Perhaps it was because there all these emotions rushing around her mind, each one fighting the others in an effort to get out, that none of them found their way into her unceremonious greeting.

"Hey."

Blake inwardly groaned. _Well, at least I sound like my usual self._

"Hey!" Pyrrha replied with much more vigor and waved her hand toward her living room. "Come on in!"

Blake obliged and stepped into the living room of the apartment, almost as pristine as the last time she was there. _Almost as if no one lived here since I was last over, _Blake thought as she swore that the pillows were all in the places they were before.

Embarrassed at her curiosity, Blake quickly shook away those thoughts and handed back to Pyrrha her sweater. The redhead's eyes popped as she picked up the garment, and after a few moments of consideration, she regarded Blake with a bright smile. "Ah, it's still warm from the dryer!" She pressed the sweater to her face and breathed deeply. "And it smells wonderful! Thank you, you honestly didn't need to clean it for me."

"Well, if you're this excited by my laundry, just wait until you see the rest of me," Blake quipped with a playfully raised brow while also suppressing the blood that was starting to flush her cheeks. "Though that's not to be incentive for you to hand me dirty clothes to clean."

Pyrrha snickered loudly at this. "I wouldn't dream of it." She then gestured toward the kitchen and asked, "Want anything to drink? I've several teas and some coffee, if you'd like."

"Just water is fine." This was a lie, of course, but Blake wanted to be polite and not ask for much. Besides, she had enough caffeine for one day to last her well into the night, so Blake wasn't keen on drinking any more. Even if she did crave a taste of some good jasmine tea.

Pyrrha looked a little disappointed as she opened up her pantry. "You sure? I've got some of that medium roast from last time, along with Altesian breakfast tea, some Mistral Grey, red tea, some more black tea from the south, green tea from Menagerie, Haven spiced tea…" Pyrrha went on and on, reading off the names of the various beans and leaves she had in stock. Blake was surprised at the sheer variety she had to offer and had to wonder if Pyrrha was some sort of caffeine enthusiast.

_Well, I can't really refuse the offer._ Blake finally caved and said, "Green tea sounds nice." Pyrrha flashed a satisfied smile and pulled out the tin, setting it down on the counter next to the teapot. "You've acquired quite the large collection there."

"Indeed. I honestly don't drink that much tea or coffee unless I really need to, but I know that others do, and I like to accommodate." Blake noted how proud she sounded with that declaration. Pyrrha started boiling some water in a kettle to the side while scooping tea leaves into the teapot's strainer. "Speaking of, are you hungry at all?"

Blake would've said "no," but she knew at this point that doing so was an exercise in futility – Pyrrha wanted to be a good hostess, so why stop her? "I could eat a snack or two."

"Great!" Pyrrha beamed and started poking around in the fridge. "I've got… I've got some yogurt, if you'd like?" She asked like it was a question, but there really was only one appropriate response.

"Sure." No sooner after that word left her mouth did Blake find a cup of yogurt and a spoon in her hands. Pyrrha sure wasn't kidding when she said that she liked to accommodate – Blake would never starve as long as she was around. The writer noticed that Pyrrha had already started on her own cup and decided to follow suit.

"So how have you been?" Pyrrha asked in between bites of her snack.

Blake took a moment to swallow before speaking. "Still writing, as you would imagine. Your text got me at a good break, though." Of course, that break was an entire afternoon, but that detail wasn't important.

"You're working on that story you showed me last time, right?"

"Yes, but work is slow. Editing is a careful and laborious process."

Pyrrha frowned. "That doesn't sound fun," she said sympathetically.

"True, but it's a necessary chore. If I'm hoping to be a worthy writer one day, it's what I must do." Blake really had no interest in talking about herself, especially about something she had been avoiding, so she quickly changed the subject. "What about you?"

"Well, I suppose I had my own share of tedious things to do recently," Pyrrha said with a huff of a laugh. "You would think that grad school would allow you to do more interesting work than whatever was available in undergrad, but it's still long lectures from old professors and quizzes every week."

_Makes sense; if she's anything like Yang, she'd tend toward more practical work. _"Do you do anything else, then?"

"Oh, of course! I'm currently volunteering in one of my professor's labs and working at a physical therapy clinic in the evenings." As the kettle rattled with boiling water, Pyrrha paused to pick it up from the stove and poured its hot contents into the tea pot. "I honestly wish I could just do those two things full time, but I do need to get a doctoral degree if I want to get anywhere in the field."

"I see." Blake wasn't one to back down from a challenge, but she had no desire or need to seek another degree after her time at Beacon. Still, she had to commend anyone who did pursue that path, especially something as rigorous as medical school. "At least you found something enjoyable."

"True, true, but it's not quite as romantic as what you do. Sure, it's a lot of work, but I bet the creativity you can have is rewarding enough." Pyrrha pulled two mugs out of a cabinet and poured the freshly-brewed green tea into each, offering one to Blake.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the mug and blowing some of the steam away. It certainly had a nice, soothing aroma. "Well, I certainly can't imagine doing anything else now."

At that point, much of Blake's nervousness about meeting the redhead again evaporated and gave way to curiosity. It had occurred to her that they were just standing in the middle of the kitchen, sipping on tea, exchanging small talk, and despite how pleased Pyrrha seemed, Blake was sure that wasn't why she had invited her over. Blake turned to Pyrrha and asked, "Say, do you have anything in mind to do?"

For the first time in the short while that Blake knew her, Pyrrha was slow to respond. She scratched the back of her head nervously and said with an uncertain voice, "To be honest… I don't know."

_Alright, awkward situation just became more awkward. Lovely._ Still, Blake was taken aback just a little at the hesitation from Pyrrha. After all, she didn't seem like the kind of person to not have a plan – Blake had pinned her for the confident, self-made athlete that would earn her the title of 'The Champion of Mistral.' Then again, this same girl also unexpectedly indulged in adult romance fiction, so perhaps Pyrrha was more than she seemed.

One way or another, Blake needed an answer. "What do you mean?"

Pyrrha shifted uneasily, but her face was still composed. "Well, I just thought that perhaps we would just figure something out? 'Let the chips fall as they may,' as they say?"

_Oh gods, she really didn't have a plan_, Blake thought in surprise. _Perhaps she isn't the one who usually makes plans? _The idea seemed odd, but it only seemed so because of an assumption Blake had about Pyrrha's character. _It's worth a shot, at least._ "Do you normally the spontaneous approach, then?"

Pyrrha surprised Blake with a burst of snickering. "Oh, heavens no! I rarely do this kind of thing. I can't go through the day without a proper schedule – I have a pretty set daily routine these days. But no, today I wanted to try something different. I guess it was a bit of an impulse."

The enigma of Pyrrha continued to grow in Blake's eyes. An impulse this certainly was, but why Blake of all people? Surely there were others who Pyrrha would be more familiar with and would much rather spend time with. As flattering as the thought was, Blake couldn't imagine herself being so interesting that the girl standing before her would gamble her time with Blake. _Unless it's the only gamble she can make…_

"Pyrrha, what do you normally do with your friends?" It was a simple question, but if Blake's guess was right, it wouldn't be so plain for Pyrrha.

"I…" Pyrrha's mouth opened quickly but said nothing more – she must have not had a good answer. "Well, I've…" Another false start. The redhead furrowed her brows and made a funny expression as she concentrated on what to say. "You see, I've only been in Vale for just over a month, and in that time, I have a number of acquaintances at school and at work, but most of these connections are minor. I haven't done much with them outside of those environments."

It was hard to notice, but there was a slight hint of sadness in her voice. _Perhaps she's homesick?_ Blake moved around quite a bit in her childhood, so she couldn't relate to the feeling, but she still understood it. Most people don't tend to leave the places they're comfortable in unless there's something else in play. "I guess it's hard to adjust to a new city." Blake decided to probe a bit further, still curious about Pyrrha's reasoning for bringing her here. "Do you miss home?"

Pyrrha shrugged and looked off in the distance. "Not really. I kind of miss the familiarity of Mistral, but that's exactly why I came here – to find something new and unfamiliar." She then turned her attention back to Blake. "I suppose that's why I invited you over. You don't seem like the other people I know, so I decided to be a little adventurous and get to know you." Blake wasn't sure if this was a compliment or not, but the little smile Pyrrha gave her at the end made her stomach feel funny.

"I may have been a little too impulsive, though, seeing as I haven't thought of anything to do," Pyrrha added, again rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "You have any suggestions?"

Normally, this kind of thing was something Yang or Sun handled, so Blake was ill-equipped with ideas on what the two of them could do. It didn't help that she felt just a tad awkward around this new girl, nor the fact that she really didn't know much about what Pyrrha liked. _Aside from sports, but I wouldn't be caught dead doing any exercise, _Blake grumbled to herself. What else was there to Pyrrha, though? She couldn't think of anything el—

_The books_. Pyrrha was an avid reader, that she also knew. For the umpteenth time, Blake mentally hit herself on the head. _How could I forget all those books stacked up by her nightstand!? Especially "Ninjas of Love"… _This gave Blake an idea. Most people would think it was a pretty lame way to spend time, but Pyrrha was quickly proving herself to not be "most people."

"I might know a place you'd like," Blake said with a confident smile for once. "You like books and coffee, right?" _Okay, wow, that sounded much cooler in my head._

"Well, sure. What do you have in mind?" It didn't sound like Pyrrha was trying to discourage the idea, but perhaps see didn't see it as all that exciting.

"There's a neat little bookstore downtown that has a café tucked away in the corner. There are these little nooks and crannies scattered around the store that you can hole yourself up in with a good book and a warm mocha. That sound up your alley?"

The way Pyrrha's face lit up in response was enough of an answer, reassuring Blake that this wasn't a stupid idea. "That sounds grand! Is it far from here?"

"It's about 10 blocks away from here, but I'm pretty sure there's a bus that swings here that would take us there if you're not up for the walk."

"No, no, no, that's fine!" Pyrrha exclaimed, waving her hands for emphasis. "I think it would be a good walk. Besides, what kind of runner would I be if I didn't use my legs?"

Blake couldn't help but snicker at Pyrrha's adamancy for walking. _Once an athlete, always an athlete, I suppose_. While the writer might have preferred taking the bus, walking meant she had more time to talk to Pyrrha on the way and figure out more about this woman. There were still things about her that weren't adding up in Blake's head – something about that sadness from earlier almost begged for further investigation. It would be rude to probe, but Blake's curiosity certainly was piqued.

Of course, this meant that she had to maintain a conversation for longer than five minutes, which was not exactly one of Blake's fortes. She wouldn't mind silence, to be honest, but Blake doubted that Pyrrha would interested in having a quiet companion. Then again, Pyrrha might be just as uncertain of what to do or say, but at least she was willing to try – after all, Blake's invitation was a bit of a leap of faith for her.

_Well, if she's trying something new, so should I,_ Blake thought with a smile as she gestured toward the door. "After you."

* * *

_BETA: Jefardi_

* * *

**Howdy, y'all. I just kinda did this in my downtime from Feel the Burn just to relax, but then it turned into a month-long project - go figure. Anyway, this is kinda like a part one to a 2-chapter arc thing, so if it feels like not much got resolved, that's why.**

**Alright, off to continue writing Chapter 10 of Feel the Burn and a little bit of another project**


End file.
